It Comes Back And Stabs You In The Back
You eyes
Burnt like kerosine
In the July's heat
Their ashes
Have risen from the dead
Thence the first snow flakes
Why won't the phoneix ever die.
Burnt like kerosine
In the July's heat
Their ashes
Have risen from the dead
Thence the first snow flakes
Why won't the phoneix ever die.